Holding On and Letting Go
by Niknakz93
Summary: Long after the murder of Tamlin, a still mourning Feyre dares to dream about being happy once more. Feyre/Lucien -Oneshot- Feycien Lemonade.


Hello. I am Nicola and I am complete Feycien trash. How ya doing?

 _For Louisse, Sondra, Aneli and Jana. Let us go plot some more pain._

* * *

Some days were worse than others. Some days he recalled what he had lost and simply wept, his heart so heavy he thought that it might shatter like glass. But never before the Court and its Lady.

He didn't know how she could do it, she of soft human heart. Though he suspected that like himself, she wept in privacy, mourning that which she had lost. What they both had.

 _She has lost as much as me,_ he realised not long after the High Lord had left then. How cruel it was to watch your family grow old right before your eyes. Watch them die while you would live forever. And forever was a long time. He could attest to that.

And then she had lost him a mere two years later. They had both lost him.

The Lady of the Spring Court smiled easily enough, but very rarely did it touch her eyes. They remained sad, almost sorrowful. He hated it. Knew _he_ would have hated to see the joy she had once exuded now nothing but ashes. A distant, fading memory.

And he knew that he shouldn't be feeling this way about her while she was evidently still in mourning.

She merely picked at her breakfast that morning, eyes fixed on the plate of bacon and eggs with her shoulders slumped and hair almost lank.

Lucien set down his cutlery. "Are you feeling well?"

She jolted out of her stupor, dropping the fork onto the floor. It landed with a metallic clatter. "W-? Oh, yes. I was just thinking."

For some reason, he thought he knew what she was thinking of. Lucien didn't press and she didn't tell him.

He knew the exact moment when protectiveness had shifted into something more.

Ten years after _his_ death, he'd been awoken by a soft knock upon the bedroom door. The darkness was deep, yet he knew it was her. Other than him, he was the only one in the mansion who frequently had nightmares.

Her eyes had been hollow when he'd lit the lamp and turned to her. Empty, devoid of life. Then, without warning, she had sped over and thrown her arms around his shoulders and wept. Wept because she thought that he had left her too. That she was alone in the face of forever.

She spent that night in his bed, curled up beneath the covers while Lucien watched the slivers of silver moonlight flood the room until she fell asleep, her fingers finding his own.

It had rattled him to his core when he had realised that she found comfort in him. That he was the only person who could make her smile even a little. Even if it was just a mere shadow upon her lips.

The next morning they had woken up holding the other as if the world was about to be obliterated. Lucien had feigned sleep as he'd watched her leave, her eyes wide and horrified. And he knew why; she felt like she was betraying _him._

In falling in love with Feyre, Lucien also felt like he was betraying _him._

 _You are supposed to be protecting her,_ he'd growled to himself numerous times, pacing back and forth while cursing the Cauldron. _Falling in love with your dead best friend's mate... Don't go there, you bastard. Don't you dare._

He'd still fallen in love with her anyway.

"I'm going out to the borders today," he told her quietly. "Would you like to come? It's nothing major. Just a pleasant ride" He already knew the answer.

"No."

Only this time, he wasn't going to accept it. Wasn't going to allow her to stay confined to the mansion. He would drag her out if need be. "You're coming with me. The last time you set foot outside the territory was Yulemas. Yulemas two years ago."

She swallowed hard and avoided his eyes. He was expecting it. "Feyre, please. Do you really think that Tam would have wanted you to become this?"

The porcelain plates shattered at the mere mention of his name. Lucien didn't apologise this time.

"Feyre-"

"You don't know what it's like-!" She snarled, her hands curling into claws, nails digging into the tabletop.

And then she realised what she had said.

Feyre's shoulders visibly sagged beneath the silken dressing gown. "I forgot. I'm sorry. At times... I still feel human."

Lucien waved it away as if it was nothing but a spider's web caught in a gentle breeze. "It's forgotten if you come with me today."

She stared for a long moment before furrowing her brows. "Are you... Blackmailing me? Are you serious right now?"

"In a sense. And I have never been so serious."

He was relieved when she didn't swell up and explode. Or turn his hair blue... Again.

After a glance at the shattered pieces of porcelain, she told him that she was going upstairs to change.

###

"You should tell him how you feel," Alis said softly as she braided Feyre's hair back with gentle fingers.

Feyre froze, her heart racing, pounding against her chest. She gasped softly. "I cannot do that." She didn't even try to deny how she felt. It was impossible. Traitorous to... Him.

"Of course you can."

"It's not that... Simple." Her fingers trembled slightly and she cursed them. Weak. She had become so weak. "And even if he did... Want me... I can't."

Alis sighed in frustration. They were both so blind, so afraid. Lucien because of his promise to Tamlin, that he would always protect her for hi. And Feyre... Feyre couldn't move on. Couldn't even imagine happiness even all these years later. It made Alis sad; they had so much to give the other. Love as well as happiness.

Maybe Lucien getting her out of the mansion, the estate, would be a turning point for them. Or at least somewhere to begin where Feyre was concerned.

Alis leaned closer and whispered something into Feyre's ear. Something that made Feyre both so terribly afraid and... Happy. She hid the small smile behind her hand as she feigned a yawn.

And then she dared to dream about being happy again.

###

Lucien was stood beside a chestnut mare complete with saddle and reins when Feyre made her way to the stables, his own horse tacked up behind him. He blinked, pleasantly surprised at how she looked. It was rare to see her out of silken pyjamas. Before he could stop himself he said "You look... nice. No half-dead rat look anymore."

She nodded, not able to force the words Thank-you from her lips. She climbed up onto the chestnut mare and took the reins, waiting for him to mount his own horse.

Lucien paused as he realised that she carried no weapons. Nothing. Without a word he unsheathed a dagger and handed it over. Feyre took it without a word, slipping it into her boot. She had forgotten about weapons, about the dangerous Fae that still existed. That still haunted the woods sometimes.

Now he mounted his own horse and spurred it into a gallop towards the gates with Feyre close behind.

It was a quiet ride towards the northern border, neither one saying a thing and the rustling voices of the trees and gentle melodic singing of the birds loud in their ears. The song of the woods. There was no trouble, of course. Very rarely did the monsters venture forth now. And the biggest monster of them all was long since dead. _Dead at my own hands,_ Feyre thought quietly. Even if he had been an abomination, it was still murder. A stain upon one's soul. And Feyre had many stains by now, and they would never wash out.

After an hour of patrolling the silent line of trees and outposts, Feyre eased her steed to a stop, causing Lucien to do the same.

"What's wrong? Are you okay?" He frowned, immediately sliding from his saddle. It startled Feyre how genuinely concerned his voice had been.

"Why would anything be wrong?" And why did he have to keep asking her if she was fine. Did she look different? She blinked when she realised that he had his hand on the pommel of his sword, ready to draw it at a moment's notice. Ready to fight.

Fight for her.

Maybe Alis hadn't been lying?

"Never mind," he sighed, making to mount the horse again. Feyre shook her head.

"Wait." Her feet landed softly on the ground. "Let's walk for a while. I forgot how beautiful this place was." The brook to her right behind the crop of trees was bubbling and laughing, loud in her ears.

And so they set off together into the lush green.

Even after all these years, he couldn't believe how much she had changed. How much he had too. Did she even know how to laugh now? He had been so afraid, too afraid of upsetting her to try past very small and innocent jokes.

"Feyre, you're shuffling around like an unshod horse."

She ignored his words and he fought the urge not to roll his eyes. That had been a bad one. But it was hard to think up something witty when you couldn't stop staring at someone because of how devastatingly beautiful they were, inside and out. Her hair shone like gold streaked through with brass and he longed to run his fingers through it

Feyre was lost in a world of her own, her thoughts a roaring cascade, an argument. Part of her wanted to move on, desperately desired it. But the other part refused point-blank. Refused to let the memory of _him_ go.

Him. Tamlin.

She sneaked a glance at Lucien as he walked alongside her. His eyes, thankfully, were looking anywhere but at her. At the trees as they danced in the warm breeze, at the sunlight dappling upon the leaves. He kept a good distance between them both as they went, but she couldn't help notice the way he sidled close at times. How his fingers almost brushed her own before he jolted away and began the process all over again.

What… were they, really? Other than close friends?

"Are we friends?" She blurted out, immediately kicking herself. What a useless question. She knew they were. She just hadn't known how to start a conversation with him. Or any conversation in general. Her sisters had been the talkative ones, the social butterflies. Not her. Not now after all of these years.

Lucien blinked, turning his gaze immediately on her. She often wondered what he would have looked like before receiving the ragged scar down his cheek and losing his other russet eye. But he was still handsome enough, even with them.

 _Stop right there, Feyre._

"Friends? Of course we are friends. We erect forts out of blankets and read each other stories by candlelight, don't we?" His remaining eye twinkled with playfulness. The smile hurt Feyre's cheeks. It didn't happen often, the smiles. She threw herself into the conversation.

"Erect forts out of blankets? You mean you've done that before?"

"No… but I intend on making us do it when we return home. And no magic, Feyre."

She loved the way he said her name. Soft, gentle like a wisp of cloud in an azure sky.

Feyre nodded, knowing that it was pure ridiculousness. Building a fort out of blankets together… were they small children?

 _He's just trying to bring you back,_ she told herself. _Let him. Not just for your sake, but for his as well. Please. Please allow yourself this one moment of foolery._

Feyre took a deep breath as they continued into the woods, hanging back and watching Lucien walk before her. She delved into her chaotic thoughts.

What would _he_ think about her harbouring thoughts and feelings for his best friend? It had been almost a hundred and fifty years since he'd died, yet it still felt like yesterday. But the edges were not so raw anymore. Not so painful. Feyre dreamed of moving on once more.

"What do you feel for me?" She asked, a moment of madness. She half didn't want to know. But Alis's words... They weren't ones to be ignored. Against all odds, she'd felt a faint fluttering in her heart.

Lucien stumbled and turned to her, his remaining eye wide. She didn't know whether that was good or bad. She steeled herself for his reply, waiting for him and his gentle words to ask her if she was okay. Again.

No, she wasn't okay. But maybe one day with him... She would be again.

He made the first move, raising a hand and tentatively setting it to her cheek. Her breath hitched in her throat as his thumb grazed the line of her jaw, the pad gently brushing her lips. Against her will, her heart pounded a fast and furious beat.

"I feel a great many things for you, Feyre," he admitted.

The skin he was touching burned. She felt something flicker to life within her chest, within her very soul. And she knew what it was... She had felt it before. Long ago with someone else.

"Say something," he said quietly, hand still upon her cheek. "I feel like a fool right now."

Feyre took a deep and shaking breath and forced herself not to withdraw back into her shell. "It's betrayal," she said stiffly, looking anywhere but at him. "You swore an oath to him. To protect me for him."

Lucien cocked a brow. "Am I not protecting you? Right now?"

Feyre opened her mouth and closed it again just moments later, stepping back from his hand. From him. She shook her head. "This is wrong," she said calmly.

And then he decided. Decided that this was the moment she left those shadows behind her. Damn, he had to try.

"Tam is dead. I am so very sorry, Feyre, but he is. He's been gone almost a hundred and fifty years. I knew him longer, and... It would have broken his heart to see you like this. See the woman he loved turn into this shell. You can move on, Feyre. But you have to want to first."

He waited. He expected her to fly into a rage as per usual, but she didn't. Her shoulders slumped and a tear slid down her cheek. She made no move to brush it away.

"I feel like I'm already dead," she whispered, horrified. "I can't breathe. This guilt... It's like I am a human again."

"Feyre-" he took her face into his hands, more serious than he had ever been in his entire life. "Feyre... You are the Lady of the Spring Court, Feyre. I would follow you anywhere. Go anywhere that you commanded me to. Tell me that we are friends and nothing more and I will respect that. But say anything else and I will never let you go. I'll love you until the Eddies of the Cauldron claim us both. And beyond that, I'll love you still."

He shattered her. Utterly and completely shattered her. He looked almost frightened, she realised. Feyre desperately searched for a reply. Anything. Anything at all, but no words came. Her world whirled around her, the lights dancing , bright in her eyes like fireflies.

A fierce need to be touched, held and loved once more overcame her as she pressed her body to his and crushed her lips to his own. And it felt right. So right.

Lucien felt his back hit the tree as Feyre kissed him like she was drowning and he was the only source of oxygen. Her hands grasped his face between them, a moan loud upon her lips.

He didn't have chance to react before Feyre let him go and stumbled back, her cheeks flushed with red and eyes so wide they seemed to be in danger of falling out. Her chest heaved. And then she did something totally, completely unlike her...

She ran away.

He followed her as she set off on foot, abandoning her horse. After nudging the pair to go back by themselves, Lucien dashed after Feyre.

It wasn't hard to track her as she made her way back to the mansion. The only thing that slowed him was the way his blood sang loud and clear in his ears, the taste of Feyre still on his lips.

Her bedroom door was locked when he tried it. The last time she had locked her door was so long ago that he couldn't recall. Maybe it was when she was human? When she had saved them all. Saved him.

He knocked twice. "Feyre?"

"Go away."

He didn't even know what to say. Of course he could have opened the door with magic, but he didn't dare.

In the end, four days later, she came to him.

Lucien had been reading in bed when the soft knock sounded, followed by "Lucien? Are you awake?"

He nodded, but then realised that she couldn't see him. Of course. Fool. "Come in."

Feyre was in her usual silken emerald green pyjamas when she slipped into the room and closed the door behind her. Her eyes immediately went to his bare chest, the covers twined around his narrow hips. He only just managed to fight back the unexpected smirk. Only just.

Lucien watched Feyre as she approached the bed and perched on the edge of it. She took a deep breath. "I'm sorry."

"For kissing me?"

She ignored him. "I never stopped to consider you. How you were feeling. He was your best friend and I didn't think about you once. You... Everything you do -have done- is to protect me. Thank you."

Lucien set down his book and stared at Feyre for a long moment. "You don't have to apologise. You never ever have to apologise to me, Feyre."

He made no move to stop her when she leaned forward and pressed her lips to his cheek, fat tears leaking from under her closed eyelids. She smiled when he reached up and kissed away the tears, his hands sliding to her waist. Feyre didn't flinch away.

"I don't want to lose you as well," she whispered, feeling suddenly vulnerable. Her body trembled slightly. "You're all I have left."

The sad thing was... It was true. Long had Feyre mourned the fact that she and Tamlin had never conceived a child. And now Tamlin was gone, along with his bloodline. He was just... Gone. The High Lord of the Spring Court was nothing but a memory now.

She choked out a sob. She simply couldn't hold it in any longer. Lucien shifted closer and drew her into his arms.

He couldn't help but marvel at how she seemed to fit perfectly into his arms. Feyre buried her face into the crook of his neck and twined her arms around him. "Hold me," she whispered, closing her eyes against him.

 _Always,_ he thought, raising a hand and stroking the back of her head. And then his lips sought out and found hers.

Feyre paused, then ripped back the covers and pounced on him.

It was sweet and slow after the initial rush of teeth, tongue and hands, both of them craving closeness. Craving release so very badly.

 _I'm sorry old friend,_ Lucien thought distantly as he kissed at the hollow of Feyre's throat, his fingers deftly undoing the ivory buttons of her shirt and ripping it open as soon as the last button was free.

"We're okay," she whispered, more to herself than Lucien as his lips travelled down to the peak of her exposed breast. A groan escaped her as his lips parted and he placed open-mouthed kisses wherever he touched. "This is fine. This is good." His fingers danced at her exposed thighs, shivers creeping up her spine at the merest touch. She couldn't remember how to breathe.

And then she allowed Lucien to take her. Mind, body and soul.

After a very short nap, Lucien didn't fall back asleep. Not that he minded, for he was content to watch the dawn turn the room from a dark grey to blinding orange as the warm and buttery sun reflected off the walls. Walls that reflected his origins in the Autumn Court.

Feyre's foot rubbed up against his leg as she moved closer in her sleep.

What the hell had he done? Part of him was horrified. He glanced down at Feyre who was nestled against his chest. When she woke up... What would she say? Or do? He couldn't bear to imagine them as mere friends again. Not now. Not after last night.

When Feyre awoke, she was of the same mind. She sighed softly and reached down, entwining his fingers with her own. He squeezed in response.

"Later," Lucien muttered. She was so warm in his arms. He didn't want to ever let her go. "We'll think of the consequences later."

Feyre didn't argue. It felt so nice to be held again. To feel... Loved. And yet her heart felt hollow still. Here she was in the middle of an embrace and she felt strangely alone.

Then she climbed onto him and they made love again and again until the sun was high in the sky.

###

Alis was stood by the table when Lucien walked in. She raised her head from the tablecloth she was smoothing down to arch an eyebrow. He knew that he looked tired and most likely dreadful. It was worth it though.

"Not a word," Lucien grunted, collapsing into the head chair and raising a hand to his forehead.

She straightened up. "Feyre didn't sleep in her room last night."

"No," he replied. He didn't elaborate. "She didn't."

"How can you sound so... Unconcerned!"

"Because she spent the night in my bed." He smirked. Just couldn't help it.

Alis blinked. "As in-?"

There was no point in denying it. "Yes. Like that."

"About time," she tittered. "You both have been making eyes at the other for years. It was only a matter of time."

Lucien pushed away from the table. His mind was a maelstrom of thoughts and emotions. His mind told him to get ready for patrol while his heart and cock said "fuck that."

He completely ignored his mind and went with his cock, shuffling the rota around. The scouts and sentries would no doubt have something to say about it, but he didn't care. He couldn't think past Feyre. Past her soft body and her lips. Lips he craved to kiss again at that very moment. He hungered for it.

Feyre said nothing when he slipped back into the room and shed his clothes, leaving them a heap on the floor. She merely parted her bare legs and invited him back to bed. Back to her.

He accepted her invitation at once.

###

It was no great secret to the inhabitants of the Spring Court as to where their Lady and her emissary were that month. They appeared when they were needed and at dinner, but the rest of the time the Court ignored them and the locked bedroom door, secretly overjoyed that their Lady seemed to be happier. Was smiling and at last it reached her eyes.

But eventually Feyre remembered what she had been trying to forget. And more.

"I want to talk about Rhysand," Feyre said two months later over dinner. "About what we did."

Lucien set his fork down. That name gave him both nightmares and such uncontrollable rage. "He's dead," he growled softly.

Feyre almost laughed. Of course she knew that he was dead. In a sense. She had been the one to kill him after all. Both she and Lucien together and their three years of hunting him down as if he was nothing more than a deer she once tracked in the forest when she had been human.

"And no, Feyre," Lucien said firmly. "He can't be pieced back together. I've told you this before. He's gone. Forever."

Feyre's heart hurt. Talking about that bastard meant thinking about _him._ Tamlin.

"But he's-"

"Gone, Feyre. Scattered to the winds and beyond."

She buried her face in her hands. "I can't let... I... I can't lose you as well as Tamlin."

Lucien stared. It was the first time she'd said his name in nigh one hundred years. "Feyre, none of us knows what the Cauldron has in store for us. You can't live in fear. You have to move on. Please... Let me make you happy again. I know now that Tam... He wouldn't have objected to you being happy again. Never. And I will spend my life fulfilling my oath to him, Feyre. Through loving you. If Tam has been watching, he'll know that I truly do love you."

After a long moment, Feyre swallowed hard and nodded. "I love you too," she said firmly. "And I think I'm ready to leave him behind."

"Not completely," Lucien told her softly. "But enough that his name doesn't bring us pain and uncertainty. Can you do that?"

For him, the man who had kept her adrift through the endless years of darkness, she would do anything. Sometimes, though very rarely, the Fates smiled down upon a person and they found their soulmate. But she had been fortunate enough to discover two.

She nodded.

*the end*


End file.
